


Heart's Melodie

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Explicit Consensual Smut, Gen, Heavy Angst, Heavy scarring, Horror (Chapter 1), M/M, Mpreg, Unhealthy Relationship Turning into Unrealistic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-12 12:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12959601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: In this AU, Anakin's growing up years with Obi-Wan were quite a bit more rough than is canon, Obi-Wan pushing him to reach self-sufficiency faster than most Padawans are expected to. Why should Anakin have to be knighted early?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. This one was actually written so there could be smut in a later chapter. Except I ran out of brain sparkles. If you want more, perhaps we can try sending prompts, just keep in mind that the end-goal I have for this is sweet, gentle Obikin, even though in the real world we wouldn't suggest such a path for these AU versions of themselves.

 

_“Why?” Anakin screamed from where he lay gasping on the mat. “Why do I have to be knighted before_ anyone else _? I can't do this yet, Master! Why would you expect me to outpace_ everyone  _who's ever been taught?”_

_“Because you will not always have me, and I need you ready! Now get up, and do it again.”_

_And Anakin, sobbing with frustration, with absolute distress, picked himself up, and tried again._

_And again._

_And again._

 

* * *

 

There was only one answer.

Obi-Wan wanted to be rid of him as quickly as possible.

No,  _sooner._

He hadn't wanted Anakin. Qui-Gon had forced a Padawan on him, and Obi-Wan wanted to regain control over his own life. And if he  _had_ to... at least he'd end up with mastery for it.

_But,_ he wanted Anakin knighted by Obi-Wan's thirty-sixth birthday.

Couldn't stand the thought of keeping him a day extra.

It fripping hurt, but Anakin no longer wept over it.

He stood silent by his master's side, listening to negotiations, memorizing as much of it as he could, knowing Obi-Wan would grill him for analysis hours into the night.

His body became one of a fighter, and it was much more rare for Obi-Wan to succeed in throwing him to the mat now. Some days,  _he_ was the one who threw the older Jedi into a wall or on the floor. It should feel good to see him wheeze, see his eyes glaze in pain, to stand over him, pitiless, and demand he stand up to go  _again._

Instead, it felt hollow, and he wanted to cry.

But he'd vowed he wouldn't anymore.

He was done being hurt by Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was choosing not to be hurt any more.

Let the man do his worst: Anakin didn't care.

 

* * *

 

There was a look of abject relief on Obi-Wan's face when Yoda cut Anakin's braid.

Anakin's heart twisted into his throat, and he gripped the severed line so tight in his hands that his fingernails cut his palms.

He didn't offer the braid to Obi-Wan.

Hell. He'd pulled it off even  _before_ his  _deadline._ There were still almost eight months left before Obi-Wan's thirty-sixth birthday.

_See, bastard? I did even better than you demanded... and it still wasn't good enough._

He returned to their shared quarters, packed all his things in a box, set a glass on the table, fed his now-bloodied braid into the cup, and set fire to it.

As the flames licked, Anakin lifted his box, and left Obi-Wan's home forever.

He chose an apartment on the far side of the Temple, and for a blissful month, he never saw Obi-Wan once.

Though those who saw him drunk some nights might have doubted his claim to happiness.

 

* * *

 

The time of separation came to an abrupt end when the Council sent them out on joint missions for the war effort.

Anakin braced himself for the resuming of Obi-Wan's disappointment, his disapproval—

But it wasn't there.

Anakin felt suspicious for the first five weeks, then realized it wasn't coming back.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was an entirely different equal than he was a superior, and Anakin had no idea what the  _frip_ to make of it. He despised himself for the fact that his heart leaped into his throat every time Obi-Wan gave a quiet word of praise, or asked him for his opinion on a strategy.

_He doesn't deserve to have me care!_

But he did care. Hell, he  _did,_ Obi-Wan had  _raised_ him _,_ and though Anakin felt himself weak for craving his attention and praise, he  _did._ He  _needed_ it, and he soaked it up even while hating himself.

 

* * *

 

Anakin hated Dromach with its inky black pools, impossibly deep, and its burnished red skies. The fact that night fell early and often, and that unspeakable horrors crept through those shadows.

But the droids were here, so there the Team went to face them.

He wanted to pretend he'd lost track of the days, but Anakin knew  _this_ was  _the day._ It offered him a measure of smug satisfaction, because he'd been  _better_ than Obi-Wan thought he could be... but it also brought back all the memories of the time from  _before_ the war.

Obi-Wan was slower today, limping, his eyes shadowed with pain. Anakin noticed and asked if he needed to stop, to rest, but Obi-Wan brushed him off.

And then he fell.

He simply dropped to the ground, lying still as blood soaked through his leggings.

And then the man was kicking the leggings off, pulling off his boots.

Shocked by the crimson bathing the black stone, Anakin crouched beside him and demanded what was happening.

“ _Really_ ?” Obi-Wan panted back, shedding the last scrap of fabric from his legs.

Anakin searched the skin, seeking the wounds, trying to find a way to  _stop_ the bleeding—

Obi-Wan cried out, falling back against the stone, his body shuddering.

“ _Obi-Wan!_ Talk to me!”

“Did you forget—?” Obi-Wan hissed between clenched teeth. “It's my birthday, Anakin.”

“Oh, _trust me,_ I _remember._ ” Obi-Wan sent him a baffled look through the pain, and then his mind was lost to the agony, and Anakin's every word fell on deaf ears.

“Get Kix!” Anakin shrieked, suspecting the clones near had already called for the medic. There was no way they would just watch this without acting to help.

Obi-Wan's thighs, clenched tight together, looked—

_What the hell?_

It looked like a thousand somethings, curved, sharp, and hard, were pushing up against the skin. His genitals didn't look like a normal human's either, hidden by a pouch of skin that was—  _fading_ ?— into the muscles of his thighs as the legs' tendons fused together.

Soon his upper legs were completely bound, and the  _things_ cutting through the skin were more prevalent  _than_ skin as the blood-streaked pale covering peeled away, revealing scales beneath.

Obi-Wan writhed, his mouth open in a voiceless scream.

And then his neck was bleeding too.

“ _Where the hell is Kix?_ ” Anakin shrieked, stunned by the—  _tail,_ it looked like a  _tail,_ Obi-Wan's genitals hidden within, only a small slit revealing their placement, and even  _that_ was rapidly being hidden by a scale.

Slits opened up along both sides of Obi-Wan's throat, and his breathing became labored as he lay there, mouth gaped, struggling to take in oxygen. After a moment, the slits in his neck flared as well, as if searching for the same substance.

Anakin looked back, found the shins almost completely gone, found toes fusing together and elongating, found toenails sliding away as the tail completed itself, a powerful flare at the end christened in blood but dainty in structure—

And razor sharp at the fluttering ends.

“Can't breathe,” Obi-Wan gasped. “The pool—”

“ _Kark!_ General!” And then Kix was there, arms sliding under Obi-Wan's back, dragging him upwards and in the direction of the murky water. “ _Help_ me!”

Anakin's hands reached for the tail, raising it, and cringing as Obi-Wan flinched in pain.

And then they were sliding him into the water, and Obi-Wan sank up to his chin. Beneath the surface, Anakin could see the slits in his throat shudder, flare open, then closed, and Obi-Wan stopped breathing.

Anakin's  _heart_ stopped—

Obi-Wan sighed in relief. “I must go now.” His hand reached for Anakin, and the younger Jedi met cold, wet fingers with his own. “You'll be fine.”

“What is  _happening?_ ” Anakin begged.

“I cannot stay.” A tear slipped from Obi-Wan's lashes. “Goodbye. I love you. I'm so proud of you—” He began to sink beneath the surface.

Anakin's grip shifted to his wrist. “ _Kix!_ ”

“You have to let him go, General!” the clone panicked. “He'll die unless he gets to deep water and  _stays_ there!”

“What are you  _talking about_ ?”

Cold lips pressed to his hand, and then he was grasping at empty water, seeing Obi-Wan sink, sink, sink, looking up at him with sorrowful eyes.

“ _No_ !” Anakin turned on Kix. “ _What just happened?_ Is he  _alright_ ?”

“We got him in the water in time.” Kix sagged back, just a slight tremble in his hands. “He'll be alright.”  
“ _Alright_? Who knows what's _down there_?” “He has his lightsaber, and he's capable of taking care of himself, Sir.”

“ _He has a fripping tail!_ ”

Kix blinked at him like a sleepy convoree. “Yes?”

“People  _don't just grow tails!_ ”

“Melodies do. Metamorphosis? Begin life on land; in maturity, can only survive underwater, losing their air-breathing organs? There's plenty of amphibious species that go the other direction, Sir. But you  _grew up with him._ You know all this, General.”

Anakin gaped at him. “Obi-Wan's not _human_?”

“No.” Kix looked stunned. “Obi-Wan's a melodie from the Yavin system? They mature at age thirty-six, switch from exclusively land-dwelling creatures to exclusively deep-water creatures?”

“He can't surface at  _all_ ?”

“No. Starlight would destroy him, and the high pressure of the water is needed to keep his organs functioning. He wouldn't be able to breathe or function in shallow water, and air... air would kill him.”

_Dear Force._

That's what Obi-Wan had been fighting against. A ticking clock.

_He was so hard on me because he knew I needed to be able to survive on my own. I needed to be tough enough to be able to make my own way out here, alone without the ability to turn to him for backup—_

A thousand things Anakin had read one way suddenly looked completely different.

And one thing became absolutely clear.

_He thought I knew._

_Holy Force, he thought I knew._

No  _wonder_ they'd fought! Everything Anakin had ever said meant something  _different_ in light of this— and Obi-Wan's occasional wince at his now clearly cruel words made sense.

Anakin searched the troubled water, but could not see Obi-Wan.

Kix's voice was quiet and frustrated as he added, “He would have been at the Temple, safe in one of  _those_ pools if it weren't for that damn blockade.”  
The one that had already kept them trapped here for three weeks.

A tremendous explosion dragged Anakin's attention up.

“General Skywalker, Sir!” Rex cried, sounding ragged over the comm. “We have to get out!  _Now_ !”

“We can't just  _leave_ Obi-Wan!” Anakin protested.

Kix grabbed his arm. “ _Sir,_ he'll be  _fine,_ the droids can't get to him down there, they don't even know he's in the pool. You can come back, but men are  _dying,_ and the rest of us will too if we don't leave now!”

Anakin listened to Kix.

Stars above, Anakin listened to Kix.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that. Sparkles happened, thanks to all of your diligently laid brain sparkle traps. Have a full second chapter, and there's another one on the way. <3

 

It was a year before Anakin managed to break through enemy lines deep enough to return to Dromach.

A year.

Now, in diving gear, Anakin sank into the pool he'd lost Obi-Wan to an eternity before.

_I'm going to find you,_ he swore.

He kept going until his meter said he was deep enough— anywhere below this point, Obi-Wan could breathe.

He turned his headlamps on, trying to see in the murk. Triggering his comm so he could be heard outside his helmet, he shouted, “Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, can you hear me?”  
He waited, straining his ears, but the mic didn't pick up anything.

“Obi-Wan!”

He followed the rocky wall of the edge of the pool, trying to see into the murk around and below.

All was still, down here. Not a creature stirred.

_Is it barren?_

But he could see algae clinging to the rock, leaving it slippery.

_Something's gotta live down here._

He wouldn't  _hope_ it was Obi-Wan, because he had to  _believe_ it. Couldn't allow himself to entertain the possibility of anything else.

He reached out, tried to sense—

But things were... things were blurred, here.

“Obi-Wan!”

He continued his path, and it was only due to his suit's location device that he realized he'd made it all the way around the pool and back to his starting point.

_Okay. Time to cut through the middle, then make the circle lower down._

He would not quit until he'd found him.  _I swear. I'm not leaving you again._

“Obi-Wan?” He kicked off the wall to move into the murk when something clamped over his mouth and waist and dragged him back. He flailed, lightsaber lit.

He was released, the thing recoiling as Anakin turned—

Long auburn hair floated through the water. A scar twisted from the hairline through a gray, dead eye, down over the mouth, drawing the lip up in a false scowl, and down over his chin, marking him from the upper left side to the lower right.

A streak of silver followed the white scar through his hair, revealing where the wound had curved up over his head.

The tattered remains of a tunic was belted tight, but through the ragged tears, Anakin could see jutting ribs and brutal scars.

Fingers had given way to fins that extended in a gentle ripple up the outside of his forearms to a small flare at his elbows.

The scales of his powerful tail looked black, and also seemed edged in a blue-green so dark that Anakin wasn't sure the whole thing just was a trick of his eyes. And there, twisting through the muscle, a ragged scar where scales no longer grew. It was old. Healed over. But the edges of one tail fin were ragged, holes torn through them, skin fluttering, only partially still attached.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered, stunned by the change.

Obi-Wan's blue-green eye winced, and he opened his mouth to speak.

Anakin's suit caught the sound waves that his ear would not have been able to hear underwater, and bridged the water-air barrier.

A cry. Like a whale's song, mournful and poignant—

“Obi-Wan, I missed you,” he choked, eyes filling with tears.

What used to be fingers pressed to the plasteel covering his mouth, and Obi-Wan looked alarmed, gaze searching out and down for something.

_Whatever did_ this  _to you,_ Anakin realized.

_Dear Force, you were out here, all alone..._

A quiet whistle, then clicking—

_He's making that noise._

A sudden realization struck Anakin.

_His vocal cords don't work anymore._

Of course not. Why had he expected them to?

Anakin reached out, placed a hand on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan looked back, exhausted, wary, unsure.

Anakin smiled through the tears, hoping Obi-Wan at least remembered how to interpret Basic when he heard it.

“I'm going to get you out of here,” he murmured. “I promise. I've got a tank on the  _Resolute_ that is light-resistant and has artificial pressure. We're going to get you home.”  
Obi-Wan looked unconvinced.

“You're not staying here a day longer.”  
And he was going to  _keep_ that oath.

He signaled the  _Resolute_ . “Rex, I found him. Send the transport.”  
They could almost see it— the secondary transportation tank— when they both sensed something  _wrong._

Curses came over the comm, and then something was hurtling down into the pool.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened, he caught Anakin and drove them skyward as fast as his tail could take them—

A heartbeat before the detonation, he stopped his flight, wrapping arms and tail around Anakin to try to shield him from the—

Anakin felt water— cold, then boiling— then air, then stone rush past his skin.

He felt his ears ringing, his head pounding, the world teetering madly.

He felt his heartbeat, deafening in his chest, striking in his throat so hard it hurt.

And then he was pulling himself upright, shaking, the burns cruel, his helmet shattered—

He looked around, stumbled—

Obi-Wan lay flopping on the unforgiving stone like a beached fish. His gills reached wide, struggling for air, but his mouth was closed despite his desperate gasps. Glazed eyes couldn't see Anakin's as the younger Jedi staggered to his side.

“Rex,” Anakin choked into his comm. “Gunship. And have the tank ready—”

Another bomb dropped near. Too near.

Clearly, the Separatists were trying to take out Obi-Wan.

Anakin looked to the pool, still boiling, remembered the solid wall of cold water that had hit him, swift followed by scalding agony.

It would still be far too hot to reenter.

_No other pools close enough._

Their best bet to save him was the  _Resolute_ , then.

Anakin lifted his thrashing master into his arms in a bridal carry, feeling Obi-Wan's tail against his arm through the tatters of his dive suit. Warm scales, damp but not slimy, not as hard as he'd anticipated, but conforming against his arm and submitting to every bend of muscle.

He had no doubt Obi-Wan could kill a man with a blow from that tail.

Oxygen-starved eyes met his, flippers trying to find purchase in his suit, failing because they weren't prehensile.

As Anakin staggered towards the closest place where the gunship could land, he found himself numbly wondering how Obi-Wan's transition from  _hands_ to  _flippers_ must have traumatized him. Anakin couldn't imagine suddenly having the ability to  _grip_ things stolen from him.

Anakin could sense something wrong in Obi-Wan's body as the changes in pressure affected his internal organs, as oxygen deprivation reached the unconsciousness point, as Obi-Wan went limp, draped over his arms.

Anakin could see the burns, even where scales protected the man, far more terrible than those Anakin himself bore.

_He shielded me,_ he realized.

And then something was in front of him, blocking his path, and he dragged his head up to find clones pulling them onboard a gunship.

Anakin managed to hold himself together until he deposited Obi-Wan in the small airlock. Managed to stand outside as it closed, the pressure equalizing, and then the floor pulled back, letting Obi-Wan slide into the clear water of the tank. He hung there, fins trailing, the damage of the super-heated water and whatever creature that had attacked him clear.

“He's not moving,” Anakin heard himself saying. He sounded panicked, he distantly realized.

It was only noise that had his head turning, discovering Kix in a protective suit climbing into the airlock.

_Good. Good._

Anakin found the floor rushing up to meet him, bent his knees so he wouldn't fall on his face. Somehow ending up sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, he stared up at the screens that showed what was happening in the light-shielded tank.

Kix scanned his patient, gently removed the tatters of robe from his body, taking away the last concealment for the damage the Jedi had taken.

Anakin heard a whimper, thought it might have come from his own throat.

The knowledge that most of the terrible wounds had healed long ago didn't seem to help much.

Obi-Wan's eyelids snapped open, alarm shrieked from him in the Force, and he lunged himself backwards, hitting the side of the tank so hard the whole thing shook.

His hand searched for the lightsaber still clipped to his belt, but the belt was out of reach—

“Easy, General. You're safe on board the  _Resolute_ ,” Kix soothed. “Easy.”  
Obi-Wan's panic turned to him, the man's eyes wide and his body shaking.

“You got burned pretty bad protecting General Skywalker. He's alright, Sir, he's being taken care of right this minute.”  
_I am?_ That's when Anakin realized hands were tending him.  _Oh. I am._

Obi-Wan's mouth opened to speak, and worried clicking emerged, carried over the speakers.

Anakin's heart constricted.  _How am I ever going to learn how to understand that?_

Anakin stared at his master's beardless face, and felt his eyes blurring, not from tears, but because he couldn't make them focus any longer.

He'd done it.

A year of fighting, of sleepless scheming, of desperate fury and helplessness and despair, he'd  _done_ it, Obi-Wan was safe, the  _Resolute_ in hyperspace—

There was nothing to keep him upright anymore.

A year's worth of adrenaline demanded its due, and Anakin's body slumped into sleep, and his mind had no energy left to care.

 

* * *

 

Heart in his throat, Anakin lowered himself into the tank. He found Obi-Wan resting in one corner, watching him in silence.

Anakin waited to see if he would come to him, but since Obi-Wan didn't move, he gently swam his way over.

“Hi.” Now, without the fear, without the need for escape, the words were harder to locate.

Obi-Wan simply watched him.

“We got here as soon as we could. We barely regained control of Dromach long enough to extract you.”

Still no response.

“Can you still understand Basic?” Anakin asked, hesitant. He had no idea what kind of hell Obi-Wan might have endured in that year of solitary confinement, battling for his life, not knowing if anyone would survive to return for him.

Anakin decided to take the small dip of the chin that followed as a nod. “The melodie language isn't on file, and I don't think Threepio knows it.”

The droid knew he'd been trying to locate information on the elusive species, and if he'd  _had_ any information, he would have been only too willing to spill it all.

“I'm thinking about drawing letters on the walls in here, and then you can point to them until Threepio figures out your lexicon.”

A frown crossed Obi-Wan's face, surprising Anakin.

“I mean, I know it's not ideal, but it's not fair if I do all the talking.”

A low rasp of clicking met  _that_ statement, but the owner's expression had gone pensive, making it difficult to read.

“Kix says your burns are healing quickly. Cody suggested we try putting a low concentration of bacta in here, and apparently it's working. Not as fast as an actual bacta soak would be, but it wouldn't have been fair to trap you in one of those until you could give the word whether you wanted to or not.”

A severe shake to the head.

“Yeah... figured not.” After being trapped in a space so relatively small, with some horrible monster, and alone— Anakin would be surprised if Obi-Wan could  _handle_ a bacta tank.

For a long moment they simply floated there in silence.

“I need to apologize.”

Obi-Wan sent him a disbelieving  _look._

“I thought— all growing up, I thought you were human. I misinterpreted just about everything we had together. I  _hated_ you for pushing me so hard; I had no  _idea_ you knew you were going to have to leave me.”

Obi-Wan's eyes went wide with shock and a flurry of worried trilling spilled out of his mouth.

“I just missed it somehow. When I went back after I lost you, I asked everyone else, and  _they_ all seemed to know, and were all just as surprised as you that  _I_ didn't know. Maybe you tried telling me when I was younger. Maybe I wasn't listening at the time, or you used words gentler than  _I will be gone,_ or maybe you thought I already knew. I don't know. And you know what? I don't really care. I just know that I misjudged you. And while I hated the long nights of repetitions... I was ready, when you disappeared into that pool. You did right by me, Obi-Wan. You gave me the skills I needed to survive.”

Obi-Wan swam closer, the movement perhaps the most beautiful thing Anakin had ever seen. Even injured, he still retained the natural grace of an aquatic lifeform.

_You were always something completely different from me._

A fin that had once been a hand reached out to brush down the mask covering Anakin's face, a vain attempt to touch his cheek.

Tears started to Anakin's eyes. He tried to hold them back, but he found it to be a futile attempt.

He tried to turn away but found himself held tight by scarily thin arms. A low keen escaped from the back of Obi-Wan's throat.

“It's okay,” Anakin whispered, worming his way around so he could hold Obi-Wan in return. “We got out of there. You're going to make it.”

Obi-Wan's shoulders shuddered as the older Jedi began to weep.

Anakin pulled back just a little, his hand coming up to brush Obi-Wan's drifting hair back from his face. He discovered melodie tears to be crimson and have about the same weight as water, the small currents of the tank carrying them away so they lost their color against the rest of the water.

Anakin rested his forehead against Obi-Wan's.

“I will  _find_ a way so I can understand you again,” he swore in a murmur.

 

* * *

 

“No, no, Artoo, that is  _absurd,_ ” a prissy voice insisted. “You don't know the slightest detail about organic language. I wouldn't expect  _you_ to understand—”

But Anakin crouched beside the agitated astromech. “What is it?”

The droid spewed back a recording of Obi-Wan's song and clicks. Even hearing it from his mechanical friend made Anakin's heart seize. He missed the man's voice. This wasn't... it wasn't the same.

“Artoo insists that he recognizes patterns. He thinks an  _organically developed_ language to have  _similarities_ to binary—”

R2 blatted at him.

“A base-twelve system, huh?” Anakin mused. “You're right. Basic has a  _lot_ more possible sounds with what, thirty-six or so?”

“Melodie is a  _tonal_ language!” 3PO sputtered.

“But binary is just ones and zeroes set to whistles and beeps,” Anakin retorted, “and I learned  _that._ It means I can learn melodie.”  
3PO froze, looking both alarmed and sad. “Master Anakin, while I do recognize that you are very skilled at completing whatever you set your mind to, despite every effort, you have never once mastered a tonal language.”

_He's right. It all sounds the same to me._ _Meh. Mehh._ Meh. _Force damn it._

“Artoo, can you see what you can make of it, please? If you can figure out what he's saying, then you can teach me.”

“ _Master Anakin!_ I am  _studying—_ ”

Anakin grimaced. “You're not making any headway.”

“I have  _categorized_ the language and _cataloged_ the phonemes used! I am—”

“I don't care about the science of it, Threepio. I just need to be able to understand it as fast as possible, and with you it would take years.”

“It would take years to fully comprehend  _any_ language, M—”

Anakin gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked out, hearing the golden droid tsk at the rudeness.

He returned to the empty tank room, and without switching on the lights, moved to the solid wall separating him from the water that would kill him, and Obi-Wan from the air that would kill  _him._

Anakin placed his hand against the cool surface, bowing his head and sighing.

He felt the moment when Obi-Wan pressed a fin to the same place.

Tears started to Anakin's eyes.  _He doesn't have to see me to know I'm here. Doesn't have to hear me cry to want to ease my pain._

The Force brushed against his mind, warm and familiar. A sense of openness, of care.

_If only the Force could be used to send specific words instead of just vague impressions._

Anakin moved away to put on the helmet, not bothering with the suit this time. He dropped the outer tunics and belt, leaving only the undertunic and leggings and hoisted himself up on top of the tank to drop into the airlock.

Within seconds he could feel the heavy weight of the pressure against his arms, though he didn't feel it in his ears due to the helmet.

He found Obi-Wan waiting beneath the airlock and Anakin nearly landed on top of him. Finned arms wrapped around him, and Anakin could hear whispers of horror echoing down their bond.

“I'm sorry I left you alone,” Anakin whispered, feeling horrified himself. “You were alone so long, not knowing if anyone would be able to come back for you. I shouldn't have recreated that.”

The arms trembled.

A year of solitary. Of wondering. Of fearing. Of struggling to survive, and having nowhere to go to escape.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't think. I'm so sorry.”

No sounds escaped Obi-Wan as he shook and clung to Anakin.

Anakin held him tight in return.

 

* * *

 

Anakin insisted on being  _inside_ the transportation tank when it was brought to transfer Obi-Wan to one of the deep pools inside the Temple.

Obi-Wan was clearly trying to keep his composure, but his gaze darted around as clanging noises reverberated and their rectangular prism jostled.

“I didn't know we had deep water pools in the Temple, but Mace told me, and I picked the best one.”

Obi-Wan sent him a look Anakin couldn't quite decipher.

“It has access tubes to several other deep pools throughout the Temple on various floors. And we made a room for you, with a door you can close.”

Surprise filled Obi-Wan's eyes, and then they softened with gratitude.

“Figured you'd want to be able to lock your door.”

A fin pushed hard against his hand, since it couldn't grip.

Anakin smiled and squeezed it in return. “Do you eat fish?”

Obi-Wan managed a nod.

“We've tried repeatedly to convince the Yavin IV melodies to talk to us about how we can help you, and what you need, but they still refuse to talk. I don't know why they're so adamant about not helping y—”

Obi-Wan seemed to deflate, and Anakin kicked himself.

He hadn't put two and two together until just now.

_Force, I am stupid. Saying things without thinking first—_

It had been in the report about Obi-Wan's admission to the Order.

The infant had been proclaimed defective and thrown out to die. Plo Koon had been nearby at the time, and had felt Obi-Wan's terror and pain, and had refused to walk away. The galaxy knew practically nothing about melodies, and Plo had been able to find out just barely bits more. The Order may not have known how to take care of a baby melodie, but they sure as hell were going to try harder than the parents were.

_They can't possibly_ still  _think he should die, can they? He's grown up, he's fine!_

Apparently being outcast meant...  _forever._

_Frip them. Frip all of them. They didn't deserve you._

Obi-Wan must have sensed his protective indignation, because the fin stroked the back of his hand soothingly, and a gentle trill echoed through the water.

The solid cage felt different as it lurched, then dropped.

“We're home,” Anakin murmured.

When the airlock opened this time, both doors slid apart.

Obi-Wan simply stared up, eyes wide, and then he looked to Anakin in something that looked akin to fear.

“No giant monsters here. I swear it. Fisto and Bant have been all over this place. And so have I.”

Obi-Wan edged to the opening and peered out, tail moving in a slow holding pattern.

Anakin joined him, trying to send reassurance and acceptance over the bond.

Obi-Wan sent him another wide-eyed look, then opened his mouth, tongue snaking out to taste the new water.

“It's clean,” Anakin assured him. “No chemicals. The plants and circulation system keep it clean, along with the fish.”

A questioning noise.

“Yeah. Fish.”

And then the last of the light from above disappeared, leaving them in absolute blackness for a moment...

And then everything changed.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning. The falling in love process is frankly terrible. And eye-roll-demanding. And dreadful. I really should have just had a PWP but I really wanted the horror and angst at the beginning. And Force damn it.
> 
> Also, beware: alien sex organs and egg-laying. And smut. And mpreg. Which was the original basis for this story. The thought of mermaid sex added to seahorse males nurturing tiny baby seahorses in a pouch? The person who showed me a movie clip of a Daddy Seahorse had no idea what they were doing.

 

Bioluminecent blue stones lit the walls, offering the water a soft, magical light. Small schools of brightly-colored fish swam lazily around, and beautiful plants carpeted the floor.

Obi-Wan's eyes filled with wonder as lights sparkled in them.

Those  _eyes_ were beautiful to Anakin. Moreso than the incredible fantasy land that the Order had built for the youngling whose parents had wanted to kill him. A cautious smile tugged at Obi-Wan's lips, and then he shot out of the tank, the kick-back in the water sending Anakin backwards hard as Obi-Wan zoomed forward, impossibly fast, bubbles swirling in his wake.

Anakin righted himself and watched as Obi-Wan took full advantage of the size of the chamber, up, down, diagonal, around, upside-down...

The younger knight found himself smiling as he watched the other let himself be who he'd been made to be, without fear of something trying to  _eat_ him.

No hiding here, just open water and the joy such room brought to a melodie.

Obi-Wan paused, glanced back at Anakin, teeth flashing in a delighted grin.

It stole Anakin's breath away. He couldn't cry now, couldn't turn  _this moment_ sad.

He wouldn't.

Obi-Wan returned to him at a much more leisurely pace, gills fluttering and chest heaving.

_You're starved and not had room to really race._

No wonder he was out of breath.

“Bant is away on mission, but when she gets back she'll come visit.”

A look of anticipation touched Obi-Wan's face.

“You want to see your room?”

A nod.

So Anakin led the way.

 

* * *

 

“We didn't really know how to furnish it, so once we figure out a way to communicate, we'll get some input from you,” Anakin offered, but Obi-Wan didn't seem to hear him, instead slowly swimming into the small cube and looking around.

An artificial light that could be triggered by a brush from a fin. A screen in the wall to access files and holo for communication with those not in the pressurized tunnel system. A couple cupboards with shelves and doors that could be nudged out of the way, with built-in magnets and straps so items would stay in place. Non-shredded tunics folded on a shelf and kept from floating away by a beautiful rock sitting on top.

A shelf underneath an extra-low area of the ceiling in the back, thick and soft sea grass coating the entire cubby.

Obi-Wan eased himself into it and relaxed.

“Is it comfortable? We were really guessing with the bed.”

Obi-Wan gave a nod.

“We figured if it was more like a bed and less like a bunk, you might float right up and out. This way you can just float, and it's soft all the way around.”

Delighted amusement glittered in Obi-Wan's eye, and the Force curved around him in the way that signaled he'd thought of some sly bit of humor.

Anakin wished he knew what it was.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan was asleep, the gentle pattern in the Force saying that clearly enough.

Anakin sat on the edge of the pool, mildly uncomfortable due to the pressure in his ears, but grateful to have his feet in the water and the rest of him  _out._

He'd spent a  _lot_ of time underwater lately, and it felt good to breathe oxygen without assistance.

The light here came from under the water, casting beautiful blue waves of light across the walls.

Anakin tinkered with one of the metal plates stacked beside him, checking the wires.

He wanted to have this done and ready by the time Obi-Wan woke up.

 

* * *  
  


Anakin had just hauled himself out of the water, taken off his mask, and settled back on the side of the pool when he saw a blur move out from the cave Obi-Wan called home.

Half a second later Obi-Wan's head surfaced.

He blinked at Anakin, then smiled, dimples showing in his cheeks.

“As long as you keep your gills underwater, we should be fine. Can you hear me, though?”  
Obi-Wan cocked his head and frowned, then opened his mouth.

Anakin couldn't hear a thing.

The melodie sighed and his shoulders slumped.

Anakin couldn't help his own smirk of a grin. “So you know those creatures we saw on that one mission to Scariff? The scientists were experimenting with training the underwater mammals to distinguish between metal types, and a noise sounded whenever they touched the right one?”

Obi-Wan nodded, looking confused.

“Seeing you zip around so fast yesterday made me think. Pointing to an alphabet on the wall made you feel dread— don't deny it, I could sense it— and to be honest, it would have been painful for me too.  _But_ I came up with a faster, better way.”

Cautious hope entered the beautiful blue-green eyes.

“I've set up plates down there, one for each letter. Swim past them and hit them as you go, and you can communicate just as fast as you can swim.” Anakin felt warm glee at the speculative look that was swift crossing Obi-Wan's face. “It's connected to a screen up here, and to any waterproof datapad we sync up.” Anakin pointed to the massive screen across the pool.

Obi-Wan flipped, tail accidentally spraying Anakin with water as he bolted downwards.

Anakin chuckled while rubbing the spray out of his eyes.

Letters began spilling across the screen, a bit hesitant at first, then faster as Obi-Wan figured out the distance between panels.

/Is it working Please Its been lonely so long/

Anakin's throat closed, and the moisture he swiped from his eyes was no longer the pool's.

Obi-Wan's nose peaked up from the water, eyes wincing in both hope and fear alike.

“Yes,” Anakin whispered. “It's working.”

Obi-Wan zipped away again.

/Thank you/

Anakin tapped the comm he'd set up on the floor beside him. “There's punctuation down lower— can you see them? I knew you'd want them.”

/Oh. Yes. Much appreciated. Uncivilized to work without them./

Anakin choked out a laugh. “Force, Obi-Wan.”

For a long moment the screen remained blank. Then, letters slowly gathered.

/Words are difficult. They had no meaning, there. I had difficulty.../

Anakin tried to swallow, but it hurt too much as Obi-Wan clearly searched for what he needed to say.

/remembering what they meant, when you found me./

Anakin grit his teeth to make sure he made no sounds. “You didn't deserve that.”

/I hurt you. I pushed you too much./

“Yeah. A bit,” Anakin admitted, and it hurt to say. “But I turned out okay. And you certainly didn't deserve a year in solitary while being hunted as a sentence.”

/Perhaps. Qui-Gon always drove me to succeed. I just assumed it was the best way to raise a child. I should have questioned him more. I had a lot of time to think, when trapped./

“Did you resent him?” Anakin asked, not sure what he hoped in reply. “For pushing you so hard?”  
There was a long silence before Obi-Wan's reply tapped out, /No. I always assumed the problem was with me. Not him./

“And me? Did you think the problem was me?”

/Never,/ the reply came back fast. /I was afraid. That you wouldn't be ready in time. I didn't want you left early, the way Qui-Gon left me before... I was ready./

“Fear leads to bad judgment calls, right?” Anakin murmured back. “But why would you think you had to leave?”

/We hadn't found a way to turn any of these pools into something that could support melodie physiology, and my...  _they..._ weren't talking. It looked like I would have to return to Yavin. How did you find the secret?/

“Quinlan and Aayla went to Yavin and tried to talk again. When that didn't work, Quin got his hands on some artifact and found the memories needed.”

/Not all of the burns were from the bomb. Some were from the water./

Kix had mentioned that, and it had burned Anakin's  _spirit._ “I hate that you were in constant pain.”  _And terror for your life. And alone._

/You got me out./

And in the Force, there was an uncomplicated relief and gratitude accompanying the words, as if it were just that simple.

 

* * *

 

Watching Bant fuss over Obi-Wan and watching him snark back made Anakin feel good, even though he was watching from a distance with the large screen off so their conversation could be private.

So why, when Fisto stopped by just  _hours_ later, did Anakin feel  _awful_ ?

Obi-Wan's grin almost matched the Nautolan's as they raced through the tunnels and pool, and the way Fisto's lekku swirled around him was mesmerizing.

And why wasn't he wearing a  _Force-damn shirt_ ? Obi-Wan felt a need to keep at least one layer of tunics, but Fisto shows up in tight swimshorts alone?

Anakin paced the small stretch of land in frustration, wondering where the two were  _now_ in the massive catacomb of water, and annoyed because even with the best equipment he wouldn't be able to keep up with them.

Who knew what they might be saying? Or  _doing—_ ? Fisto was so damn attractive and Obi-Wan seemed so  _happy_ and  _playful_ right now—

Anakin froze, his temperature dropping to the point where he shivered.

He was jealous.

_I'm not jealous._

But if this sick churning in his gut wasn't it, what  _was_ jealousy?

_Why would I be mad he has a friend? After so long alone? What's wrong with me? I should be happy for him._

But the thought of Fisto smiling at Obi-Wan too much made Anakin supremely uncomfortable.

It was ridiculous and  _disgusting_ at the same time. It's not like Anakin was  _in love_ with Obi-Wan. That would be absurd. He could appreciate the long waving auburn that floated around his head. The way the scars proved he'd fought to  _survive,_ a trait Anakin had always greatly admired. The beautiful tail with its scales, such a dark blue-green they looked black except for when the light passed through the edges  _just right_ . A blue-green that matched his eyes. The way his face looked when he smiled, now that the beard was gone. The graceful curves of flukes and fins and tail, oh, the muscles of that tail.

Anakin wasn't  _blind._

_I can appreciate beauty without falling in love with it. Force._

What was he, thirteen?

_I don't even know what his preferences are, romantically or sexually. He could be asexual and aromantic for all I know, so Fisto wouldn't stand a chance._

Except... maybe Obi-Wan was  _neither_ of those things.

And maybe Fisto had  _more_ than a chance.

Obi-Wan had been lonely for a long time, and had already proved he was touch-starved, and what if he made the decision that he needed  _something,_ and the only person _there_ was that  _green sex icon_ and said  _emerald wonder_ didn't  _think_ and realize it wouldn't be  _good_ for Obi-Wan and didn't say  _no—_

And— then what?

_There's no_ and what.  _He needs to keep those long fingers_ off  _of Obi-Wan._

Sex would be bad enough, but if Obi-Wan actually  _fell in love_ with Fisto—? That was enough to turn  _anybody's_ stomach, Anakin was sure that wasn't just  _himself._

And of  _course_ Anakin hated the idea of Obi-Wan having sex. The man was—

_Somewhere near a million years older than me._

Except he really wasn't, and it was clear without the beard and in the pensive fear or regret that still sometimes took over his face.

Alarmed by his own train of thought, Anakin fled the chamber as fast as the airlock brought his body back to the regular Coruscant air pressure levels.

 

* * *

 

Anakin managed to hide his confusion for quite some time, but he supposed the discovery had been inevitable.

The slight blush of cheeks, the way eyes widened, then slid to the side as the forehead wrinkled in embarrassed discomfort.

Obi-Wan knew and Anakin thought he might die of humiliation, because at this point, he could no longer deny what was happening to him.

_I'm falling for him._ Hard.

A fin touched his cheek, and Anakin risked a glance into those eyes.

When Obi-Wan leaned in and kissed the mask over where Anakin's lips would be, then fled, his head reeled.

Had that just  _happened—_ ?

 

* * *

 

Steps leading into the pool allowed Anakin and Obi-Wan to sit side-by-side, their chins just barely over the surface of the water.

Anakin's hand rested on the tail where Obi-Wan's thigh used to be.

In that moment, he really had no idea where they'd end up a couple months later.

If he had, he might have panicked.

 

* * *  
  


“Show me,” Anakin whispered, wishing there wasn't a mask between himself and the man he loved and who loved him in return.

Obi-Wan pressed what had been his ass to Anakin's bare groin.

Not a scrap of fabric remained between the two of them, but Anakin still wasn't sure how this would work.

Pale fingers reached around and brushed down the smooth curve, and Anakin watched in amazement as the scales parted just a little, revealing an orifice.

“Can I touch?” Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan nodded his head.

Anakin brushed his fingers by the opening, watched amazed as it blossomed wider.

Careful to use his non-metal hand, Anakin circled the opening, then dipped the tip of one finger inside.

Obi-Wan's lips parted and his hips shuddered.

“Is that okay?” Anakin asked.

A nod.

“More?”  
A more vehement nod.

Anakin slid the finger deeper, amazed by how loose it was. “Obi-Wan... are melodies built on a single body configuration?”

Obi-Wan gave a nod.

_One sex. Your body was built to accommodate something, then, with minimal assistance._

And as he added fingers and felt slick warmth, he found his guess confirmed.

The head of his dick nudged the scales. “Are we okay?”  
Obi-Wan nodded and tried to press back onto him.

Anakin carefully guided himself in, eyes closing as he wrapped his arms tight around Obi-Wan's waist and chest.

The other's head fell back to rest against his shoulder.

Anakin thrust gently and a beautiful whimper escaped the being he held. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

“Same,” he murmured in the language Anakin was slowly, painfully learning. A fin nudged one hand lower down Obi-Wan's belly, lower—

Anakin could feel a growing bulge there, and connected the dots in his mind. With a smile he teased his fingers against the scales there until they shifted and a narrow, ridge-lined shaft slipped out. “There you are,” he purred, exploring the texture with his hand.

Obi-Wan bucked against him, wriggling and making low, needy sounds.

“You are beautiful,” Anakin swore, nuzzling his neck and shoulder through the mask, watching the way pale blue-green flushed darker as he stroked it.

There was no urgency, that first time. Quiet acceptance ruled the moment, and gentle pleasure washed them both.

Later, there would be needy, frantic coupling with Obi-Wan's sharp teeth marking Anakin's skin and Anakin's legs wrapped tight around his waist as Obi-Wan fripped into him, but that was not today.

Today the water buoyed them, the lights sparkled magically, and Anakin suspected this might be what a happily-ever-after looked like.

 

* * *

 

**Three Years Later**

 

“Ready,” Anakin murmured, hands cupped beneath Obi-Wan's ass.

The melodie shifted, and a small egg, about the size of a very large marble, slipped out.

Anakin almost pulled away before he saw the orifice expanding again. “Holy kark, Obi-Wan, there's  _ two!  _ Don't move!”

He caught the second alongside the first.

“Any more?” Anakin asked, cautious.

Obi-Wan sent him a scowl.

Cradling the eggs with great care, Anakin chuckled. “It's okay, Obi-Wan. Look. Look at our babies.”

One was a pearlescent pink, the other a midnight blue with white swirls.

Anakin felt loath to let them go, though he knew they needed to grow.

_ It's just that I won't be seeing those shells again. And they're beautiful. _ He reached out to the tiny Force-signatures within so that he would know them apart when he finally saw their faces.

Obi-Wan was already probing at his front, a bit higher up his stomach from where his body sheltered his cock. He slipped a finger in, then winced.

“Relax,” Anakin soothed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

Obi-Wan sighed. “They seem large to go  _ in. _ ”

“They weren't so bad coming out.”

“The pouch isn't used to being opened up.”

“My beautiful marsupial.”

“I'm not a marsupial, Anakin.”

Anakin chuckled. “Sure. It's either that or a seabantha.” He held out the pink-shelled one. “Trust me?”  
“What if— what if they threw me out because I can't carry children?” Obi-Wan whispered.

Anakin moved to press his forehead to Obi-Wan's. “Hey,” he murmured. “What did we decide about making decisions out of a place of fear?”

“It only ever hurt us.”

“Breathe,” Anakin soothed. “Trust me. Trust the Force. Trust your body.”

Obi-Wan stared into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded.

When Anakin pressed the pink egg to his stomach, the pouch opened to accept it in, and not a whisper of pain crossed Obi-Wan's Force signature. “You're doing so well,” Anakin breathed, tears blurring his eyes before he managed to blink them free and slip the second egg into Obi-Wan's welcoming body.

The scales slid back into place, concealing and protecting the life carried within.

“Ours,” Obi-Wan murmured, brushing a fin to his flat stomach.

“Ours,” Anakin agreed and covered the fin with his hand. He looked forward to learning how Obi-Wan's body changed to accommodate the little ones that would grow quite a bit bigger than they were now.

The two resurfaced so Anakin could pull his mask off and kiss his mate deeply.

This was home.

This was hope.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't supposed to happen. The ending of the last chapter felt final and ready to me, and then that night I curled up to sleep, and right before drifting off I had a picture invade. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't go away, and then a couple other brain sparkles marched in, and I just decided to give up now before I ended up beaten bloody by the damn little tyrants.

 

A groan ripped through the quiet of the airpocket above Obi-Wan's pool. The melodie's tail thrashed out, splashing water over those gathered and already wet.

Anakin held Obi-Wan's chest and shoulders tight from behind, careful to keep his mate's gills below the water level, and watched as Bant and the midwife conferred.

Another breath of pain shivered out, and Obi-Wan's head pressed back against Anakin's shoulder.

“It's alright,” Anakin soothed him. “You're going to be alright.”

Obi-Wan did not reply.

 

/ / /

 

**One Week Ago**

 

Anakin's arms might feel just a little tired from carrying his pregnant mate, but the glances they received made it completely worth it.

Obi-Wan cut quite the figure in the pressure-jacket and mitts, a clear collar around his neck filled with a solution he could breathe, leaving his gills visible. His tail was free, the scales protecting the muscle beneath from the sun, and the scales were undeniably beautiful, as was the drape of his flukes.

He might have been almost frighteningly beautiful if it hadn't been for the one thing that took this icon of desire and added an element of  _ adorable  _ that brought smiles to complete strangers' faces.

The floppy, wide-brimmed hat protected his face from the sun, but it also slipped low, hiding just about all of his face as he leaned against Anakin's chest, confident Anakin would not drop him from the bridal-carry.

The hat had been specially designed to protect the melodie, and Obi-Wan was actually peering  _ through  _ the brim, the weave of which allowed him to see vaguely, as if through a thick screen.

Once out of reach of the sun, the hat would come off, but for now, the brim dipped forward almost to his chin.

Dex was as happy to see them as always when Anakin settled the  _ clearly  _ pregnant fairyland creature into one of the booths and took off the hat, carefully tucking the hair behind Obi-Wan's ears.

Obi-Wan beamed at the Besalisk, nodded when Dex wanted to know if it was alright to touch his massive baby-bump beneath the scales.

Anakin never ceased to be impressed the scales still formed armor and hadn't been pushed to the point of no longer overlapping. Obi-Wan had blushed when he mentioned it that first time, had mumbled about  _ extra  _ scales, and how his tail might not be entirely  _ flat  _ afterwards, at least for a while, that he might be able to get his figure back,  _ maybe. _

_ Stretch marks for melodies.  _

Anakin hadn't brought it up since then, since Obi-Wan seemed so unsettled by it, but the younger Jedi didn't actually mind the thought of Obi-Wan's body carrying a reminder of their precious children. Every time Anakin saw that subtly-altered form, he would remember that Obi-Wan loved children who hadn't even been  _ created yet  _ more than he wanted to keep his body pristine.

Anakin couldn't even begin to explain how attractive that was.

Dex's massive hand made the baby bump seem smaller, and Anakin could sense the moment the fiery twin took exception to the new presence and gave one vicious kick at the hand.

The Besalisk's eyes widened in delight. “Hello to you too,” he rumbled, chuckling. “What'll you two lovebirds have?”

Obi-Wan had told Anakin before they left the water, since they still hadn't figured out a way to make Obi-Wan heard in air. Air just didn't carry the sounds as well.

Anakin could read  _ some  _ words from his lips, but it certainly wasn't reliable enough to let him understand exactly  _ which  _ shade of fish Obi-Wan was craving.

And boy, did he  _ crave  _ these days.

Anakin repeated back Obi-Wan's predetermined order, then his own, and settled back in his side of the booth while they waited so he could simply watch Obi-Wan.

Blue-green and milky-gray met his gaze, the unblinded eye sparkling when Anakin sent him a smile.

Anakin loved this part.

But when the food arrived he was able to enter into the part of going out to eat with Obi-Wan that he liked even  _ more. _

Leaning across the table to carefully place spoonfuls of food into the melodie's mouth while the mittens stroked his hand, or the forearm braced on the table, since non-prehensile fins could do little more than that out of the water.

Practice had given Obi-Wan a grace about being fed, and they'd worked out a system so that Anakin fed himself in between Obi-Wan's own bites.

Several times over the last few months, a random stranger might stop by their table and mumble or coo, “You're so cute together,” before scurrying off, mildly shocked at their own rudeness for interrupting.

Obi-Wan's ears always turned a delicate shade of pink, but Anakin's heart swelled with pride every time.

The entire world could see they loved each other, and how right it was.

It soothed Anakin's heart in a way little else could.

 

* * *

 

Back home, Obi-Wan lay on his stomach on a long cushion on the edge of the pool, his face in the water so he could speak, Anakin's open comm allowing the human to hear the sounds. The collar was still around Obi-Wan's throat, but the jacket was off so Anakin could massage the melodie's aching back.

“Why did you go on a mission so close to your birthday? When you knew you were going to hit metamorphosis? When I came home and demanded to know what the Council had been thinking, they said you insisted and would not be told no.”

Obi-Wan's shoulders relaxed under Anakin's insistent thumbs. “I wanted to go on one last mission before I left the Order. There was desperate need in that sector and at the time, it didn't look like it would be a problem for me to get back in time. We had no idea the escape lines would end up cut and we'd be stuck until we could fight our way out.”

“I don't understand,” Anakin admitted. “I've never sensed resentment from you about the fact you assumed you would leave the Order, but the others say that as a child, you desperately wanted to be a Jedi.”  
Obi-Wan made a content murmur as Anakin's hands worked out the knots the extra weight of the twins had put in his muscles, then managed to gather enough effort to speak again. “I'd had years to come to terms with it. I  _ did  _ want to be a Jedi. Desperately. But at the same time, as the years passed and no one was able to discover how to find a workaround to keep me healthy, I began to realize I would have to return to Yavin when the time came. I raged against it at first. Qui-Gon was very patient and understanding, he waited out the storm until the edge of denial wore off. It took four years to work through everything that followed the rage, but by the end of it, I decided the deadline didn't need to be the end of the world. It pushed me to live to the full every second, since I knew I couldn't be a Jedi forever.”

Anakin paused, that sense of self-doubt rearing its head again. “Do you ever... regret choosing to resign, even though they found a way to keep you safe here? I mean, you could still be a Jedi. If I hadn't... you know...”

“I was comfortable with the bittersweetness of leaving my place as an active knight, Anakin. When I returned to find the option of keeping my commission was open, it didn't actually take long to realize what I wanted.”

Anakin pressed a kiss to his shoulderblade. “It surprised me when they agreed to let you live here in spite of no longer being a Jedi. Or  _ me, _ when I resigned so I could give myself to you.”

Obi-Wan would never have been able to live incongruently. Basic honesty was part of Obi-Wan feeling healthy. Necessary. To demand he hide something so important to him as a lover would have been similar to forcing him to live in water toxic to his body.

It might have scared Anakin at the time to face the Council with his decision, but he had never once doubted the rightness of his choice.

He certainly didn't now.

He hadn't expected that announcement to have won him the Council's respect, but it had. Anakin choosing to put what he valued most first had proven he had both backbone and thought-out convictions, and while those values were different that those of the people in that circular room, it was the strength of character to hold to what he truly believed in that they had needed to see to fully erase the last of their discomfort in his presence.

The warm smile on Windu's face had nearly knocked Anakin sideways.

Anakin's question, once he could speak again, had been how soon they had to move out. The Council members had looked surprised at that, asking if he and Obi-Wan  _ wanted  _ to leave.

The answer to that had been ready enough. Obi-Wan did  _ not  _ want to go, and no one had any interest in forcing him to return to the people who had rejected him so long ago.

And while the Jedi did not take mates themselves, it wasn't their way to outline how someone who had resigned should conduct themselves. Anakin's fear they might make him leave while letting Obi-Wan stay quickly melted as he watched them make plans to find a room for Anakin as close to the pool as possible.

No. The Jedi did not take mates themselves, but they certainly wouldn't make life difficult for the honorably-discharged noble beings who had stepped down from their posts without burning the bridges of friendship.

There had been genuine joy when the couple announced they wanted to try for a baby, and the Medical Corps had done their best to make sure the pregnancy was both safe and going well.

Anakin found himself forming friendships with Jedi he had never even thought  _ could  _ be friend material. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd written them off in the past— they'd always been friendly to him, but he'd felt something fundamentally different about them.

With that difference out in the open now, with Anakin no longer trying to hide what he believed in, he found his fear of people getting too close and seeing him for what he was melting away.

After all...

_ Everyone  _ saw now. And they remained unbothered.

Not only that, Anakin found that his absence from the war made him feel much closer to whole, as if the violence had been destroying him from the inside out.

He saw the change in Obi-Wan too that separation from the war had provided. The easing away of the worry-lines, the way he was quicker to smile.

He even started singing again, and Anakin hadn't heard him sing since Geonosis.

He felt bad for neglecting the Chancellor, but Anakin's life felt quite full now, and visiting Palpatine always left him feeling... unhappy. The trend became painfully obvious after a couple years, and it made Anakin dread visits to the kind man who had always looked out for him, even when he was a tiny refugee.

He felt he owed Palpatine for that kindness...

But the man did not make Anakin's life  _ better.  _ The happiness and safety Anakin was building around his new family always ended up shadowed by frustration after a visit, and Anakin couldn't even really tell  _ why.  _ Palpatine had a negative energy around him, and Anakin didn't like how toxic spending time with him made Anakin himself feel. His visits to the Senate grew less frequent, and when he did go, he made sure he had a good excuse to leave after half-an-hour or so, to limit the cloud that would fall over him afterwards. No more long conversations that left him under a pall for days.

He did not need to seek out clouds to obscure the sunshine of his new life. There might not be a deadline here, but Anakin decided that Obi-Wan's motto of experiencing a moment's joy to the fullest was one worth having anyway, and Palpatine unintentionally sabotaged it.

Less Palpatine and more home was clearly the answer.

 

* * *

 

It was only a few hours after their date when Obi-Wan began to exhibit signs of distress.

It was only two days later that the downward deterioration became brutally clear, and it became equally clear all the things the Healers had been trying weren't working.

Obi-Wan's cheeks fell in, his body trembled, he drifted out of awareness without any warning.

Anakin feared to leave him for a moment, so he did not accompany the emergency expedition to Yavin to see if Obi-Wan's species knew what was ailing him. Telepathic Plo Koon, aquatic Fisto, psychometric Quin, and healer Vokara all went, while Bant and the baby-team stayed, observing Obi-Wan and trying everything they could think of to ease his distress.

None of it worked.

 

* * *

 

Months later, a drunk Quinlan would mumble the story to Anakin, how the melodies had listened while they described Obi-Wan's state, and then the Jedi had watched them shrug and offer, “You should have let him die. Why did you think we left him to the wild beasts?”

Apparently they'd been confident Obi-Wan couldn't carry a pregnancy full-term, and thought it better to kill him young than let him live.

They told the Jedi that now he would die and take the babies with him, and couldn't they see that Obi-Wan's parents had made the right call?

Quinlan may have had to have been physically restrained to keep from punching the smug  _bastard_ of a father's teeth in. 

The melodies had found no way to solve the problem, or what caused it, just how to identify the signs in the infancy stages. And with a tiny population, due to natural predators, anyone who couldn't bear children was deemed worthless and a burden to the community, and was expected to just gracefully  _die_ instead of remain an inconvenience. 

At that point, it was Che who had to be talked out of doing something drastic.

The team returned home disheartened and sickened.

There were few things more revolting in the galaxy than self-obsession parading around as selfless care for the  _whole._

Scientists and medical experts from outside the Order were brought in to collaborate, and through it all Anakin kept Obi-Wan close and felt his heart slowly breaking.

Not his beautiful melodie. Not their beautiful, unborn children.

When aware, Obi-Wan would stroke his face and kiss him, watching him with such intensity that Anakin just  _knew_ the other was making the most of this chance, in case it was taken away from him.

In case he never saw his love again.

 

* * *

 

Palpatine kept summoning Anakin, leaving messages that it was  _very urgent,_ but Anakin could not spare him the time.

Not when Obi-Wan might die while he was giving time to a jaded old man who didn't believe in hope.

Anakin Skywalker wasn't available.

Anakin heard from the medical team that the Chancellor tried to visit, but as the pressure chamber began to adjust, his ears had begun bleeding, his aged body unable to handle the pressure Obi-Wan needed to survive.

The man had to return to the Senate under medical care, and Anakin had a difficult time feeling sorry about it.

He didn't have time for anyone but Obi-Wan right now, and he really didn't think anyone had a right to complain about it. The Jedi certainly didn't seem to think he needed to put his attention anywhere else.

If the Chancellor did, frip him.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan had been the one to make the final decision, in one of his lucid periods.

To carry the children any longer was to risk both them and their carrier, and while they would have to be whisked out of the high-pressure room and tucked away in sterile bubbles until they were quite a bit bigger, they had a better chance to survive than they did now, in the body that was breaking around them.

Since the medical team was unsure Obi-Wan would survive a surgery, the only option was to induce a premature birth.

The fathers listened to the news and options, Anakin holding Obi-Wan's fin tight, Obi-Wan leaning his shoulder into Anakin's since he couldn't grip back.

Obi-Wan had asked him what he thought.

“I'll support whatever you choose,” Anakin whispered back, voice choked.

And then Obi-Wan had voiced his decision.

 

/ / /

 

**Now**

 

They had been concerned about the children becoming too large, breaking Obi-Wan's pelvis and perhaps spine, draining too many of Obi-Wan's body's resources.

But as the pouch tried to open enough to release one of the twins, it became clear the melodies had been right about one thing.

Obi-Wan's body could not handle the pregnancy.

Anakin swallowed the sting of helpless anguish. Why couldn't they have told Plo this when he rescued the infant? Or perhaps later, during all those visits to try to understand their water? Why couldn't they have _just said_ how Obi-Wan was “deficient” instead of just a blanket  _he's worthless_ and refusing to elaborate when asked?

_We just wouldn't have had him carry children. We would have asked someone else to carry a child for us, or adopted, but you chose not to tell us._

Obi-Wan eeped, and Anakin realized his anger was making an already hellish experience worse for him.

In this moment, the fact that Obi-Wan's blood-family was despicable meant nothing.

_All that matters is you and our children._

So Anakin focused all his attention on relieving what pain he could, holding his love tight when he couldn't, whispering in his ear and pressing kisses to his head.

It was terrifying to watch the midwife reach a gloved hand inside Obi-Wan's pouch, to see how much something as small as a hand  _hurt_ when passing through the opening.

If they'd let the pregnancy go to term, and  _full sized_ infants had been trying to come out—?

Anakin felt his throat close.

Yes.

He couldn't see any of them surviving in that case.

“Hold on,” he whispered in Obi-Wan's ear. “Hold on. Spitfire's backwards, they have to turn her around to come out head-first.”

Obi-Wan whimpered, trying to not thrash his tail.

“I've got you. I'm not leaving. I'm here. We'll see our babies soon.”  
Anakin caught sight of Yoda standing near the pool, ears drooped, worried and suffering for the melodie they'd welcomed into their midst. Fortunately his Force-control was such that he could keep it from adding to Obi-Wan's distress.

“Can we give him more pain meds?” Anakin asked.

Healer eyes winced back at him. “He can't take any more. He shouldn't be feeling this with how much we already put in his system.”

Anakin's arms tightened.

“There's no way that baby is going to fit,” one of the midwives murmured. “We're going to have to operate.”

Hope dropped, something so tangible and evident in the Force.

_No. Please. No._

The C-Section had looked risky given how poorly Obi-Wan's body responded to minor surgeries to repair damage from his time on Dromach.

Obi-Wan leaned his head back against Anakin's shoulder, peering up at him with glassy, squinted eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. “I'm sorry.”  
“This isn't your fault,” Anakin swore. “You are  _not_ defective. We're going to make it through this.”

“Help him breathe,” one of the non-Jedi told Anakin. “He's going to have to manage the pain as well as he can.”

“I'm not good at that. Helping someone into that calm a state—”

But there  _was_ someone present who  _was._ Who had given a lifetime to learning how. Anakin turned beseeching eyes to Yoda, only to find the green master shedding his outer robe and dropping into the water, swimming over to where Obi-Wan could see him.

Anakin's eyes burned with tears of gratitude as Yoda reached out and touched Obi-Wan's cheek, bringing the pregnant melodie's gaze to meet that of the being who had watched over his cradle when his own parents had thrown him to the giant arachnids.

Yoda centered himself, drew Obi-Wan's spirit to a place where instead of assigning value and judgment to events, he simply observed them.

_A thing I never actually figured out how to do._

Obi-Wan's breathing deepened, and a calm settled over him in spite of the discomfort.

“Begin, you may,” Yoda murmured, bobbing up and down in the tiny waves made by Obi-Wan's twitching tail.

And so the next battle for the life of three Kenobis began.

 

* * *  
  


There was so much blood. It horrified Anakin, it left him  _terrified_ , but he could hear his firstborn's Force-wail as a midwife swooped him out of the water and passed him up to waiting arms.

Windu's, Anakin dimly thought.

He'd heard  _boy_ and  _healthy_ and had to prioritize the two still in mortal danger.

The child who had grown from the blue-and-white shell came next, the ferocious tiny Force-signature, the grumpy one.

A girl.

….Safe too.

“They're okay, Obi-Wan,” Anakin murmured into his drifting mate's ear. “You did it. They're safe.”

He could sense their presences fading as they were whisked out of the pressurized room and taken to the ward set up to protect the  _very_ premature infants.

Obi-Wan floated bonelessly as the surgeon and healers tried to close the wound and stop the bleeding.

“Stay with me,” Anakin begged in a whisper.  _Please._

_Please._

 

* * *

 

It was three days before they were entirely certain he wouldn't just  _die_ on them.

And even then, his response to the medical attention proved slow.

Fortunately, the babies were doing better, even if at a very delicate stage right now.

Luke and Leia, the names the fathers had decided upon before all hell had descended.

Back when their biggest problem was Obi-Wan's ridiculous hat tickling Anakin's nose.

Anakin found himself torn,  _needing_ to be with his children, but fearing to leave Obi-Wan's side. The other was drawing from his Force-presence, a quiet, instinctive thing in his unconscious hovering between life and death, and if Anakin distanced himself, that tether might break.

So Anakin found he had to trust the Jedi and doctors to watch over his children while he sat by Obi-Wan's side.

Bant set up a holofeed so he could watch the little ones sleeping in real time as he held Obi-Wan's fin.

That helped a bit. Being able to see that they were alright.

Windu never left the ward, a watchful guardian with such intense focus on keeping those two sparks alive that Anakin found himself feeling his jitters slowly easing.

If anyone could keep children alive by willpower alone, it would be Mace Windu.

He defended the helpless with all the considerable strength he possessed... that's simply who he was.

And it would be harder to find more helpless creatures than the shockingly tiny infants.

Anakin watched the still feet, curled hands, tiny noses.

They looked human. And would until turning thirty-six.

_I swear that on that day, you won't lie thrashing on some Force-forsaken battlefield. Both Obi-Wan and I will be there, and we will make the transition as gentle as possible, and we will celebrate once you reach your full maturity._

Anakin suspected Luke's tail would be a delicate melon-pink, shimmering with a white-iridescent marbling like his egg had been colored. When Anakin imagined a full-gown Leia, he saw a midnight-blue tail with white markings that reminded him of swirling flames, matching the white-hot fervor of a tiny soul that couldn't yet understand a cause, but would undoubtedly fight  _hard_ for whatever she ended up believing in.

Their gentle, curious Luke, their bold, brave Leia...

In the Force so distinct, so clear, just waiting for a chance to show the world what was what.

_You're going to see it,_ he swore to his partner.  _You're going to watch them, and nearly explode with pride, and we'll laugh and cry over their antics, and despair in their teenage years, and then find a cautious new connection once they've figured out who they are as adults._

_We'll see them spread light in their wake and we'll lie sleepless the night after one of them has been arrested for being drunk while underage. We're going to go through all of the joys and terrors and frustration and heartbreak of family, you and I. I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi._

Leia and Luke Skywalker-Kenobi deserved to grow up with both of their dads present.

_And you will._

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan's recovery was slow, but the day came when Anakin tenderly carried him into the quiet preme ward.

He settled Obi-Wan in a chair, and watched as Obi-Wan slipped a fin into the gloves built into the box, and used that gloved fin to touch, with such gentle care, the small round cheek of their son.

Obi-Wan raised tear-filled eyes to Anakin's, and they kissed, soft tears of relief slipping from them both.

They were all alive.

They were going to make it.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan thanked Mace as Anakin raised him to take him back to where he could sleep.

Windu merely gave them a grim smile and nod.

None of them really feared harm would come to the precious twins, but it made all three feel better to know someone was on constant watch when the fathers couldn't just quite yet.

Windu didn't care that they had decided to raise the twins themselves instead of sending them to the creche. All that mattered to him was the fact that two innocents needed protecting from the unspecified shadow the converging shatterpoints indicated.

That was enough.

 

* * *

 

The night the Sith Lord snuck into the deserted room where the tiny forms slept in their bubbles, Mace Windu was there.

The Sith didn't leave alive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. Unless the brain sparkles are crueler than usual, or a prompt happens that I cannot resist.Tiny merbabies Luke and Leia have been introduced, a tearfully happy ending, and we're hopefully set.
> 
> (Read: prompt if you like. I actually enjoy writing Merwan. This story is no masterpiece, so if it goes in odd directions after two "endings", who is really going to complain?)


End file.
